<h2> <SPAN name="IV"> </SPAN> CHAPTER IV. <br/><br/> <span class="small"> CRIPPS IN A QUANDARY. </span> </h2>
<p>Worth Oglander, now in his seventieth year, although he might be a
trifle fat, was a truly hale and active man. His limbs were as sound
as his conscience; and he was well content with his life and age. He
had seen a good deal of the world and of enemies, in the stirring
times of war. But no wrong lay in the bottom of his heart, no harm
ever done to any one, except that he had killed a few Frenchmen,
perhaps, as all Englishmen used to be forced to do.</p>
<p>Moreover, he had what most folk now, of the very best kind, have
almost outlived, a staunch and steadfast faith in the management of
the world by its Maker. We are too clever now for all this, of course.
But it must be allowed that this fine old faith bred courage, truth,
and comfort.</p>
<p>"Whoever has played this trick with me," said the Squire, as soon as
he recovered himself, "is, to say the least of it, a blackguard. Even
for a Christmas joke, it is carrying things a great deal too far. I
have played, and been played, many practical jokes, when there was
nothing else to do; in winter-quarters, and such like. But this is
beyond—— Thomas, run and fetch Cripps. I will get to the bottom of
this, I am resolved."</p>
<p>In a minute or two Master Cripps came in. His face was a little
flushed, from the power of the compliments paid to Mary, but his eyes
were quite firm, and his breeches and gaiters strictly under
discipline of the legs inside them.</p>
<p>"Servant, sir," he said, touching his forelock, nearly of the colour
of clover hay; "all correct, I hope, Squire, safe and sound and in
good condition. That's how I deliver all goods, barring the will of
the A'mighty."</p>
<p>"Tell me the meaning of this." As he spoke Mr. Oglander held up the
bright wreath of hair, and pointed to the red stains on the sack.
Cripps, as behoved a slow-minded man, stared at the hair, and the bag,
and the Squire, the roof of the brewery, and all the tubs; and then
began feeling in his hat for orders.</p>
<p>"Cripps, are you dumb; are you tipsy; or what? Or are you too much
ashamed of yourself?"</p>
<p>"I ain't done nort for to be ashamed of—me, nor my father avoore me."</p>
<p>"Then will you tell me what this means? Are you going to keep me all
night, for God's sake?"</p>
<p>"Squire, I never, I never see'd 'un. I know no more than a sto-un. I
know no more than the dead, I do."</p>
<p>"Where did you get the bag? Was it like this? Who gave it to you? Have
you let it out of sight? Did you see anybody come near it?"</p>
<p>"Squire, I can't tell 'ee such a many things. They heft up the barg to
me at the Black Horse, where the bargs is alwas left for you. I took
no heed of 'un, out of common. And no one have a titched him since,
but me."</p>
<p>There was nothing more to be learned from Cripps, except that he
passed the Black Horse that day a little earlier than usual, and had
not brought his sister Esther, who was to have met him at the Golden
Cross. He had come home by way of Elsfield, having something to
deliver there, and had given a lift to old Shepherd Wakeling; but that
could have naught to do with it.</p>
<p>It was now getting dark, and the Squire every moment grew more and
more uneasy. "Keep all this nonsense to yourself now, Cripps," he
said, as he stowed the bag under a tub, and carefully covered his
daughter's hair, and the piece of paper, with a straining sieve; "it
might annoy me very much if this joke went any further, you know. I
can trust Thomas to hold his tongue, and I hope I can trust you,
neighbour Cripps."</p>
<p>"Your honour knoweth what I be," answered the loyal Carrier. "Ever
since I were a boy—but there, they all knows what I be."</p>
<p>Master Cripps, with his brain "a good piece doiled," as he afterwards
said of it, made his way back to the cart, and mounted in his special
manner. Although he was only two-score years of age, he had so much
rheumatism in his right knee—whether it sprang from the mud, or the
ruts, or (as he believed) from the turnpike gates—that he was bound
to get up in this way. First he looked well up and down the lane, to
be sure there was no other cart in sight, then he said "whoa-hoa" to
Dobbin (who was always quite ready to receive that advice), and then
he put his left foot on the little step, and made sure that it was
quite steady. Throwing his weight on that foot, he laid hold of the
crupper with his right hand, and placed his stiff knee on the flat of
the shaft, never without a groan or two. At this stage he rested, to
collect his powers; and then with decisive action flung his left foot
upon the footboard, and casting the weight of his body thither, came
down on the seat, with a thump and rattle. He was now all right, and
Dobbin felt it, and acknowledged the fact with a grateful grunt. Then
Carrier Cripps took up the reins, and made a little flourish with his
brass-bound whip, and Dobbin put up his head, and started with his
most convenient foot.</p>
<p>"I dunno what to make of this here start," said Cripps to himself, and
his horse and cart, as soon as he had smitten his broad chest long
enough to arouse circulation. "Seemeth to me a queer thing truly. But
I never were a hand at a riddle. Wugg then, Dobbin! Wun'not go home
to-night?"</p>
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